Rise of the Rejected Luna - Chapter 210: _Someone Powerful.

Ashley Gusman, a determined young Filipina, was driven by her sole ambition to provide a better life for her family. She was willing to go to great lengths to achieve this goal, even taking on the role of a surrogate mother for a Billionaire Heir.***~***CEO Tanaga Jones, who needed an heir for his empire, was adamant about not wanting a wife. Ultimately, he contracted with a woman to bear him a child.

Lugis is an adventurer who accompanies the Hero’s team party. However, every day he has to fulfill tasks that are not pleasant at all. In addition, he is oppressed by the other members of the group. The only reason he remains on this journey is because of his childhood friend, Ariane. But she is fascinated with the team leader known as Hero. One day a shadow figure appears and tell Lugis, “Let me give you a chance. A chance to redraw your life.” And so, Lugis is given the opportunity to be sent to the past to restart his life.

In ancient times, there were seven types of evil thoughts, each of which possessed the power to confuse, and muddle, people’s hearts. Every single person that came into contact with one of the seven, would inevitably undergo a sudden change in personality and temperament, and commit the unforgivable crime of murder.

Determined to rid the world of these seven evil thoughts, Lao Zi forced the seven evil thoughts into seven separate bamboo strips and secured the opening of such bamboo strips with the Phoenix Lock, and, in so doing, finally succeeded in sealing the evil bamboo strips.

But who would have thought, that the evil bamboo strips would, in due course, reappear on the surface of the Earth……

- Description from Novelupdates

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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